Goodnight My Angel
by inuzrule
Summary: As she lies in his arms, about to drift off to sleep, Edward thinks about his angel.


_Goodnight my angel, now it's time to dream  
And dream how wonderful your life will be  
Someday your child might cry  
And if you sing this lullaby  
Then in your heart  
there will always be a part  
Of me._

_Someday we'll all be gone  
But lullabies go on and on  
They never die  
That's how you and I will be…_

I know how she feels.

When she looks at me, when she touches me, when she thinks of me.

I almost feel like a stalker, watching her, wishing to know her thoughts, her hopes, her dreams. Sometimes she goes about her business, never realizing that I'm there, never noticing my eyes on her face. Other times she knows all too well, and returns my inquiring gaze with one of her own. Little does she know how much I love that heart-shaped face. How much I long to own every part of her, and only her.

Of course, there's the fact that she has no idea how pretty she is. And that only makes her all the more beautiful. She doesn't flaunt or preen. She doesn't even look much in mirrors. I would know, being her silent shadow. All her energies are focused outward. And, as amazing as this may sound, her kindness could someday kill her, if I don't first.

If you think about it, humans are designed to be selfish creatures. All living things are. You have to think only of number one to get ahead in this world. You have to strive and push obstacles out of your way. You can't let others overrun you, and you can't have too much kindness. Bella suffers from this affliction.

She would rather let a pack of ravenous werewolves tear her apart before hurting the feelings of her best friend. She would rather be sucked dry of all her life's blood before extract herself from my family's love.

On a lighter (but not any less true) note, she would rather endure a party before letting my surrogate sister suffer.

A magnet for trouble, yes, but one that invites trouble more than she would let on. She runs to danger willingly, which I believe is partially my fault. After spending so much time with the monster known as vampire, a mugging looks tame in comparison. A werewolf attack doesn't even make her blink. Scary movies will never be the same for her.

…and all because her heart is bigger than most. Because it's made of solid gold and runs on pure love.

How could one not love her? How could one not look after such a girl, especially when most of her troubles are due to ones very presence. The least I could do, I thought, when I first began to seek her company.

Of course it's more than that now. One little kick of instinctive protection has launched me down this tortuous path of need for her. Yet, how to convince her of my need? She always assumes that the scales are far too unbalanced for me to consider her my equal.

But why? I will never understand that. I may be "god-like" (her words, not mine), but I was designed to be this way, manufactured to lure in humans. My looks are bait, and my face is false.

Then, when I point this out to her, she lists my other qualities. Intelligence (one hundred years of attending school and traveling the world will do that to a body), bravery (not that much to fear when one's on the top of the food chain), dexterity and strength (again, manufactured hunting tools), a romantic soul (or, in plain terms, courtesy towards a lady; look it up, guys)…and then she goes on and on about my musical talents (a by-product of a mother with a love for the piano and lots and LOTS of practice over the years).

But what about her? Aside from her natural kindness, she's charming, quiet, truthful, unassuming, witty, brilliant…I could go on and on, but she really doesn't seem to grasp this. And she always goes back to looks.

I've lived a long time. I've seen every sort of beauty this planet has to offer, and frankly, I've become numb to it. Once or twice I've tried to talk to these great beauties…and I've often found that under the surface of these goddesses, they are cruel, or unintelligent, or plain ugly. They participate in disgusting habits, and they act as if all guys owe them something.

Not her. Besides, she subscribes to her own sort of beauty, an inner source of beauty that radiates outward.

I'd be a fool not to see it. Or blind.

And how no one ever saw it before! It still puzzles me to this day. How before she moved to the little town of Forks she was shunned by all males.

Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe, having grown up and seen her transform into this magnificent wonder of a girl, the guys that knew her personally became intimidated. Perhaps they slowly shied away, scared of being shot down or not taken seriously when they would profess their love for her. Perhaps she grew saddened and felt unwanted because of this. I will never know for certain, but I do know that when she came here she was well nigh irresistible to anyone of the opposite gender, and that she had kept no friends from her past life.

However, I would never ask her to tell me what really happened when she lived in Phoenix. One, because she would feel guilty, and two, because she would have to relive that part of her life all over.

Bella suppresses any and all memories that have hurt her in the past, and she remembers almost nothing of when she lived with her mother…so she must have felt some anguish.

Sometimes I think the sole reason I exist is to keep her from being hurt, physically and mentally. Everything from being turned into a vampire to learning to write music…all my talents and traits now revolve around keeping her happy and safe.

I think that's all I could ask for. I know that I may wish to read her mind at times, to find out why she really stays with me (is it only because I intrigue her? Is it only because I am beautiful to her?), what she really thinks of me. But for now, all I really want is for her to be safe. All I really know is that she cares.

I know what she feels, at least for now.

"Hey, Edward? You okay? You're being awfully quiet tonight, even more than usual."

"Hmm? Oh! Sorry, Bella. Just thinking…"

Goodnight, my salvation. Goodnight, my angel.

---

_Author's Note: Ehehehe...yea. Not exactly a point to this drabble, just a little look into Edward's mind (of dooooom). I don't necessarily have the same views as he does, but I feel as if Bella really does underestimate herself, physically and mentally. _

_I may be writing a companion piece to this, from Bella's viewpoint, IF and ONLY IF I get about ten good reviews (and maybe a little inspiration from another song). _

_Until then, I own nothing, except all three of the Twilight books. Hah! I also do not own "Goodnight, My Angel", although I do love it_ so.


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